


The...less than epic of Sheng

by R3ads2MuchDouj1n



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Future Fic, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R3ads2MuchDouj1n/pseuds/R3ads2MuchDouj1n
Summary: Following the adventures of the next avatar after Korra, who isn't quite up to the job. Come along for a ride of thrills, chills and a long pauses between updates while the author desperately re-reads the Avatar wiki so they can remember the lore and not get read to filth on twitter.





	1. Prologue

Jinora watched as they put down the first stone in the courtyard. She should have been sad to see it there, to see it was true. But she had been years younger than Korra and was surprised to still be alive. It wasn't so sad, and it wasn't so shocking, it was the way the world worked, the way it always had worked; the Avatar was born, lived to a ripe old age, then died, and around and around it went. 

She sighed, partly out of the reflection partly because her back was killing her. Apparently close to ninety years of jumping out of airships in what could be generously called a second skin, had a few downsides. Now she sat. Now she waited. Now she watched as her grandsons placed that first stone in the courtyard, one for everyday that the avatar was not found, one for everyday the scales of the universe needed a counterweight. 

She wasn't going to join them in the search. She was an Abbess, and an Abbess stays with her Abbey. Besides the next one was going to pop up out of the Earth King--no wait, Earth nations, and those lands were vast and divided, they'd find the kid, it just might take a while, and she didn't know how much longer she had left. _Might have been nice to meet the new Avatar_ ,she thought, _how many people can say they've met more than one-- well aside from Toph, Mom, and...Dad. No one, it's a pretty exclusive club_ , she paused at that, and looked down at her hands, how often had they been held over the years? Lead by her father, clinging to her mother, reaching out for her grandmother, leading her own children,  letting them cling to her, reaching back to her grandchildren. _I've lived a pretty decent life_ , she thought, _some rough patches here and there but  a decent showing overall_. 

She thought of her own father then, and the life he'd lived, chasing after a father he could never catch, holding her back when she started to get ahead of him, and then letting her go. She missed him. She missed an unsettling long list of people, _part of getting old_ , she supposed. 

Jinora looked down at that first stone, watched as her grandsons filed into an airship, the blue lines on their shaved heads lines up in neat rows, as the orange shoulders of their uniforms glided into the aircraft, she watched as they took off and as they went over the skyline of Republic City she looked back down at that stone, and she thought it looked   lonely. She had never been overly sentimental, but she couldn't help but think that the little grey rock looked lonely on that big white courtyard.

She hoped it took them at least a few days, maybe a few months, couple of years, that way the rock could have some company.

Could get lost in a big sea of rocks of all shapes and sizes. 

Maybe it might even make a friend. 

And with that thought Jinora decided that perhaps sitting out in the sun for three hours in heavy robes was not the best thing for her brain. She got up and turned back into the cool and quiet of the temple, back to the work of Abbess, back to being her normal rational self. And the courtyard got just a little more empty.

And the rock, which was grey, and apparently porous, began to whistle in the lonely wind.

 

 

 


	2. Swamps, Strangers and Starting points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been...sometime since Jinora's reflection, and for a variety reasons we find ourselves once again in the Earth kingdo--Earth nations, man that is a pain to remember.

Azulon trudged onward, his litter and banner men abandoned back at the place where the swamp was still a river. They were presently playing pai sho over the prince's things as they were fairly confident that he wasn't coming back. He was dressed in all black robes in the oppressive humidity with his long black hair dripping with swamp water, beset by bugs, most of which wanted his blood, and he was brimming with confidence that he was going to come out of the swamps with a lot more than just himself. He was coming back with the Avatar. Or at bare minimum the Avatar's location. 

It had been in this swamp that Avatar Aang had seen a vision of Toph Beifong, and it was in this swamp that prince Azulon had plopped himself down in the hopes of finding the next Avatar, _I mean if the swamp showed him what he was looking for, why can't I give it a shot?_ He thought as he bent a branch away from his smiling face. He trudged ever onwards, ready to bend at a moments notice, he knew the people of this swamp might not be overly fond of a man dressed like...well dressed like a fire lord. And he knew from the diaries and biographies what to expect, he was ready. He was pumped. He was...on the other side of the swamp. 

He looked out at green hills that rolled away from the delta and the great trees that made up this part of the world. 

And that's all there was. 

Green hills. 

No visions, no mysterious children, with equally mysterious animals at their sides, just a lotta grass. Now most people, having traveled far from their homes, given up a lot of their privileges, all to have some spiritual experience would be a little upset, maybe disheartened, likely cynical at finding nothing. But Azulon was not most people. He thought about it for a minute, then took off his fanciest robe and threw it at a local shepherd, who having just been hit int he face with a large sweaty, gilded black cloth fell over.

When the shepherd got back up he saw a man with long greasy, unkempt hair running into the swamp wearing a lot of black clothing that was too heavy for running into the swamp, smiling and laughing all the while. The shepherd, shook his head and muttered a quick grievance about the "crazies" that lived in the swamp. He then looked at the cloth, any man of taste would have felt the rich silk and run his hands over the delicate golden embroidery with deep satisfaction, thinking about how big of a house could be bought for such a raiment. But the shepherd felt that the fabric was sturdy and he recalled that he needed new ropes. He went back to his flock and  packed the cloth into his cart where his little girl began to bite it, he smiled down at her as she teethed  and patted her head. 

A moment later they were both covered in another black cloth, this one appeared to be a shirt, well it would appear a shirt to most people, to the shepherd it was much too long to be anything but a dress, his wife has never liked black as a color but maybe she knew someone who did. He packed it on to the cart. He heard laughter over the treetops of the swamp.  And shuddered, _perhaps_ , he thought, _I should leave before that man comes out naked_ , he looked over at his daughter, who either nodded or shook her head in approval, either way he hitched the cart to the buffalo-yak when he heard the heavy breathing on his shoulder. he turned expecting to see the greasy haired man, instead he saw a rather large snakelike thing, and it whispered to him "Can you take care of this for us?" 

"What?" He asked.

"Look, we'd do it ourselves or get the Avatar involved but...look can you just tell that idiot to stop running around the swamp like that?"

"The Greasy laughin' man?"

"...Yes. The Greasy laughing man." The snakelike thing hissed through a set of human lips that were attached to a relatively normal human face. One that slunk away back into the swamp, sending shivers up the shepherds spine, he followed he path it left in the grass when the crazy man came out again and made a move to unfasten his pants when the shepherd tapped him on the shoulder. 

Azulon stopped. _This is it_ , he thought, _a little more direct than I thought, but hey, not gonna complain_. He turned to face...a very small man. _Well he seems friendly_ , "HI!" Azulon said, perhaps a bit loudly, not that he would notice, "Was there something you wanted to tell me?" he asked, smiling.

The shepherd gulped but didn't say anything, how does one say, excuse me sir but you please not strip in front of the swamp a rather weird snake thing with a human face told me it wasn't having it, also my infant daughter doesn't need to see that, what opener do you use for such a statement? Especially when the person one has to say that to is a six foot tall, wild-eyed, half-naked man, who spent the part of an afternoon stripping and running into a nest of mosquitos. So the shepherd did the sensible thing and passed out. 

Azulon stood there, before realizing that the man wasn't getting up, he then lifted him up on his shoulders and scanned the area, there was a little cart with some large black cloths in the back. _That might be something,_ he thought. 

The cart had a small child who was busily chewing on his robes, but no other adults. Azulon, never very good with children, promptly asked her "Excuse me, but do you know this man" At this he shoved the Shepherd on his shoulder in her general direction. She opened her mouth and let the expensive black cloth drop, then picked it back up and covered herself with it. _Guess she doesn't know him_ , he thought, _Welp, no point going back into the swamp while this one's out_ , at this he set the shepherd down against the wheels of the wooden cart  and sat down next to him. 

Azulon watched as the slow white clouds rolled overhead, their meaningless shapes twisting into increasingly complex forms. He sighed up at them, a day like this was clearly a good omen to him, bright sun for the sun prince. He looked down at himself, half-dressed, ideal condition for sunbathing, he decided, he then sat down on a nice patch of grass and let the rays bake him, back first, so he could keep an eye on the cart, the farmer and oddly silent little girl. 

 The shepherd meanwhile, was coming to, he first felt a great cool shadow, then a hot flowy surface, he opened his eyes to see only darkness, he reached and felt the silky smoothness that was going to become his ropes. The hissing began again. The snake thing was in there with him, he couldn't see it but he knew it was there,  

"Well done, shepherd, that was fast, now be a dear and keep him out of there"

"O-okay" he gulped. 

"It's nothing personal but there's something very unpleasant about having a man streak through your house demanding goods you haven't had in a decade"

"W-wait, wuz he want?"

The snake thing sighed in a way that told the shepherd it was rolling it's eyes " To find the Avatar of course" 

The shepherd now rolled his eyes "Oh just that?"

"Like we know"

"If ya did, don' think you'd keep it privet"

"No, no, we would not"

"So why does--"

"Delusional? Bored? Frustrated? I don't know what his deal is"

The shepherd latched on to that, "Well, if him been bored is the problem, I got a solution" 

"You do?"

"He know anythin' about bendin'?"

"...You know, he just might"

"Yeah, I got this"

"hmmm. I may have to slither into your life more often" it said.

 

* * *

 

The shepherd had gotten the funny man some new clothes, he still needed the rope and his brother had died so he was trying to get rid of his things, thus the crazy greasy swamp person was now dressed like a crazy greasy street person, he seemed quite content to be dressed in patchy clothes, regularly smiling about penance and hair shirts and visions, standard crazy talk as far as the shepherd was concerned. Who would even make a shirt out of hair? 

After he'd dropped his daughter off with her mother and explained his plan, his wife, brilliant being that she was, made said plan even better, his had been to take him to the pro-bending arena in town, and then give him some food for the road and send him on his way; she had advised that he leave before the second round, get lost in the crowd and make sure he didn't know the way back to the house. So throughout the ride he'd been asking the stranger if he knew the way back, he'd usually respond with "All things lie forward" or "Is anything anywhere?" or similar crazy talk. As far the shepherd was concerned things were going great. 

As far as the prince's banner men and escort were concerned things were going great. 

As far as the prince who now happily skipped with his greasy black mane dragging through the muddy streets was concerned, things were not going great. This Shepherd was proving to be a major distraction from him getting back to the swamp and humbling himself before the spirits, but on a plus side he was getting some major hair shirt time, if that didn't make him humbled and worthy of a vision he wasn't sure what would.

He thought that as he tried not to scratch at the fabric.

 

 


	3. Shocking revelations at the pro-bending...my God that's a mouthful.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the pro-bending match things go awry and the story gets the chance to start properly.

The arena was hot, and loud, and far too crowded for a Thursday night match, the shepherd was confused. He hadn't heard about any special fights tonight, then again he didn't come into town as often as he used to, he'd meant to check up after tending his flocks this morning, but then...he glared over at the stranger who was becoming an increasingly prominent figure in his life. Which might not be so bad if he didn't stand out so much. For starters he was wearing rags, and black pants that didn't quite look right, he was much too tall, his hair was well below his shoulders, in fact it dragged behind him like a greasy little shadow, and despite the odd looks he got he just kept smiling. 

_The sooner I am rid of him_ , the shepherd thought, _the better_. 

They were trying to make their way to the ticket counter, a surprisingly difficult task given the sea of people, made more difficult by the long haired loon causing people to huddle up for protection and not just get out--

"Are we trying to get somewhere?" The crazy man asked. The shepherd huffed and replied  by pointing a calloused finger at the little square of blue light over the dark shifting crowd. 

"Is there a line?" He asked, his smile gone, his eyes zeroing in on the little box in the distance. The Shepherd did not notice, he thought back to the first game he ever watched, it had been just as loud and hot as this, he didn't remember anything about a line, more a big mob that just sort of descended on the unwitting and unfortunate cashier and threw money at him till he either cried or gave them the tickets. He shook his head, no he didn't think so.

He would always regret doing that.

Because the very next thing he knew a rough arm wrapped around his waist and held him under one arm like a sack of rice flour, while a quick "I'd advice not screaming too much" was whispered into his ear. _This is it_ , he thought, _this is how I die, held like a sack by a stranger in a dark arena, and the last hing I'll see is the dirt floor outside and him... taking off his shoes?_

_Wait._

But the shepherd did not get to wait because soon they were off, up into the air, propelled by bright blue jets that erupted from he soles of the stranger's feet, a stranger who grew more unusual by the minute , soon those bright blue jets of light were dancing far over the crowd, the shepherd tried not to scream.

He really did.

Azulon stuck the landing, and smiled to himself, _still got it_ , he thought. The ticket cashier on the other hand appeared to have lost it. Azulon had never seen someone gibber and fidget so much, he smiled a little harder, the cashier near jumped out of his skin. _Well, no use trying to talk to this one_ , he thought, _right to business then_ , he turned to get the shepherd out from under his arm, but the poor man had gone and blacked out again, _probably worn out from all the screaming_ , he thought. _Well, how many games could there be in an arena this size?_

"Um, excuse me, good sir"

The cashier trembled and pointed to himself. _Aw, this one's just shy, probably his first day_ , he thought, _I'll have to remember to tip him well, boost that confidence_. 

"Yes you. Um, might I ask what matches are tonight?"

The cashier gulped "W-well, uh sir, there's uh, just the one"

_Called it_. 

"Republic City Rumblers versus--"

"Those rookies?"

"Um, sir?"

"Oh, sorry, yes, I'll take two seats for that one"

"...Okay, that'll be six yuan--"

"Keep the change, you've clearly had a rough night." Azulon said slapping a small black coin purse on the counter before him. He then linked off into the crowd, his long black curtain of hair was miraculously never stepped on.

And in the ticket booth the cashier counted out the coin purse to be well over the ticket price. 

And left. 

And didn't come back.

 

* * *

 

The shepherd awoke on something hard and cold and flat, he felt around until he realized he was sitting on one of the stone benches that lined the ring. He didn't open his eyes. He was still scared. Scared to see bright blue... _what even was that stuff? It looked like fire, but Fire isn't blue...at least not as far as I know_ \--

"Hey, you doing okay?" 

He opened one cautious eye, to see the stranger, now sitting on his black hair which he'd managed to pile up into a seat cushion. Not smiling though, he looked concerned, the shepherd wasn't sure if that was better or worse than the ear-to-ear stretch he'd become accustomed to. He nodded. The smile returned.

_Yep, I definitely preferred his concerned scowl_ , he thought.  

He got himself up, they were in a crowded ring, which was perfect, what was not perfect was that the crowd had formed a perfect little circle right around them, or more specifically right around the stranger. Losing the man in the second round was going to be difficult.

"So, you know whose on tonight?"

The shepherd shrugged "Din't have the chance to look it up" 

"Well, you guys got the short stick on the Republic City end. These guys couldn't--"

"Wait, they're bringing in the other elements?"

"Is that abnormal?"

"How many fire benders you seen this deep into the continent?"

"Five"

"Where?"

"Well...Oh I think they're starting"

The shepherd eyeballed the man, he'd clearly been about to say something incriminating.  The loudspeakers blared and his attention shifted to the ring, in one corner of the dugout was the Republic City team, taunt, young, stylish, and not one of them smiled out at the crowd. In the other stood the home team, a set of three sturdy young men, all of whom the shepherd knew, on the left was a fisherman, on the far right was one of the town's better mechanics, and dead center was the only one of them who looked like he could win a fight. All of them smiling like the idiot sitting next to the shepherd 

"Well, this could be fun" the stranger said. The ref met the two in the middle, he tossed the coin, the visiting team had the first move. 

And the shepherd watched in amazement, he'd never seen fire or water used before, and he watched as the little boy he'd seen playing in his father's garage struck out his arm and launched a bright orange jet. 

The stranger clicked his tongue, the shepherd was about to reprimand him when the crowd erupted into booing and demands for the ref to step in. He looked back at the ring, the boy who had made sparks dance was on his back, his arms were smoking and he didn't appear to be moving. 

"Idiot" The stranger muttered as the Republic City team furthered their advance, the water bender was trying to provide cover, the Earth bender was the only one still on the offensive, but a rock to the jaw fixed that. 

Finally the ref stepped in. A heated discussion ensued, meanwhile the stranger grew agitated, he was tapping his feet to two different rhythms, but  at the same fast tempo. He wasn't the only one getting irritable, the crowd was demanding action, snacks were thrown, tickets waved and refunds demanded on the condition that the fight resume. 

The crazy man straightened his spine, and took two deep breathes through his nose before standing up, kicking off his shoes and marching in the direction of the ring.

The shepherd would have objected, but where the stranger went the crowd thinned, and soon the shepherd was surrounded, and made his escape.

He _Really_ hoped that freak didn't remember where he lived.

 

Deng was having what the cultured sportsman would consider a polite discussion with the referee.

"And I'm telling you that we don't have another fire bender, just let us fix this one--"

"Oh really, Mr. Miracleworker? How you gonna do that? Fairy dust? Or Positive thinking?"

"just let us heal hi--!"

"Against the rules!"

"So was what what me and your sister got up to--!"

"I'm an only child!"

"I meant your _mother_ then!"

"You wanna go?!"

"Yes! Will you let us go?!"

"Not without a firebender!"

"might I offer my services?" said a third voice.

The two esteemed well-mannered gentlemen, disengaged from their discussion, which at this point had them literally butting heads to see a man, at least they were assuming it was a man, he spoke and had the shoulders common to men, but...good word that was a _lot_ of hair.

"Uh, hello?"

Deng spoke up first "How'd you get down here?"

"Climbed the wall" the presumed man said. He scratched the back of his head and pulled a small bug out of his tangled locks, Deng eyed him more closely. 

"And why, would we--?"

"Before you finish that unnecessary question, let me get a look at him" The curtain of hair with limbs attached pointed to the now prone body of the fire bender on the ground, he didn't wait for a response, just shoved the water bender away and began poking and prodding the boy on the ground. He began to stir.

"Who taught you how to do that?"

"...my father"

"Your father is a terrible teacher"

Deng reeled back at this, this stranger had seemed off but now he was just being an a--

"Tell me about it" the boy croaked

Deng...Deng decided to see how this would go.

"Do you want me to, because I can point out the flaws in your technique"

A loud groan escaped the fire bender, Deng probably should have asked him for his name.

"Can you just skip to the bit where you fix me?"

"That's more a water bending trick, I can however substitute for you if you want"

The prone boy took a minute before saying "Was I that bad?"

"you see those guys?" The man gestured to the Republic City team with his thumb, the boy nodded "Morons"

The boy stared up at the ceiling of the ring  before lifting a burnt sizzling arm up to signal Deng over.

Deng knelled down beside him, looking at him now he wondered why he'd even picked him, he was scrawny, his breathing was uneven, _what was I think--?_

_You Thought that You needed a fire bender_

_But why him?_

_Well there aren't a lot--_

"Deng? Deng!"

Reality shifted back for Deng, he looked down at the scrawny garage brat he'd dragged into this--

"Hello?"

"Uh, right, sorry"

"It's fine, don't put me back in"

"Okay."

With that Deng turned to face the... _okay Where did he go?_

Deng heard a loud noise and turned back to see the stranger had the garage kid... _really should have asked for a name_ , over one shoulder like a weighted bag he'd use to train, he watched him walk up to the high walls of the ring, _which reminds me how did he even get_ \--

Deng then noticed that the stranger was not wearing shoes and more importantly was flying by shooting small bursts of bright blue fire out of his feet and stepping up them like climbing a set of stairs, he deposited the boy, and flew back down. 

If Deng had turned around he would have seen the other team, the Republic City big shots who had dominated them, quaking in their boots.

But Deng did not turn around. 

He was quite happy to stare at the bright burning blue that spilled out when the man landed, satisfied to watch his matted hair fly back and reveal a pale, smiling face.

_We might just win this_.

 

The second round began with the opposing team whipping water and stone at Deng and whoever this new fellow was, _Again, gotta get those names_ , ignoring the tubby little water bender Deng had found in the swamp, who promptly doused the flames aimed at him and pushed the opposition's fire bender back one zone. Deng whipped stone like bullets, never letting up. But all that was nothing compared to the new fire bender, who twirled and kicked in the air, flames of bright orange danced off the tips of his feet and hands, he deflected, re directed and didn't break a sweat while doing it. 

It was like watching a water wheel of fire. 

Deng was so caught up that he didn't notice when a rock came right for him, middle of his chest this time, the ref had warned--

_OW!_

_Yep, rocks still hurt_

He aimed one right back at their earth bender, resuming his hail of stone bullets.

They took that round.

And the next round.

And the next.

They were _winning_. 

And the crowd knew it.

And the other team was losing. 

And some how the new guy, _again with the names_ , the water wheel of fire and jet black hair got a face full of crushed rocks and water. 

Elements had been mixed. 

The ref threw the red fan.

But dropped it, the other team was on the other side of the ring, a cold blue light shining on their burnt faces, their hair singed, their eyes watery, they looked hurt. _No, They look Afraid_.

The stranger stood their, huffing and puffing, red, orange, blue, and even green flames coming from the corners of his mouth, his wild hair sparked with electricity, his hands burned with potent blue fire and his nose was bleeding.

He moved towards them. 

And was engulfed by stone.

Deng lowered his hands and walked up to the small dome he'd built around the new team member and knocked.

Someone knocked back. 

He opened a small hole in the side.

A pale face smiled at him.

"Don't taint our victory"

The pale face let out a snort of air. 

"Don't use my ancestors quotes against me"

"...that was--"

"General Iroh, briefly interim Firelord, during his reign he established a national day of tea appreciation, which we, his family, try to keep alive"

Deng had a good look at that pale face before he lowered the dome with two sharp thrusts of the arm.

"This explains a lot"

"What can I say? I'm excitable"

"I think the word explosive might be more...." Deng looked over at the charbroiled opposition on the wall "...apt"

"Oh come on they're not Dead"

Deng glared at the prince. Who sheepishly looked at his feet. 

"...did I mess things up for us?"

"We were winning anyways"

"I think that makes it worse."

"All depends on perspective" 

"I guess"

"You know I never got your name" _There we go_

"You probably don't wanna know it"

"No I _really_ do" _I will frequently re-ask it, because I have the brain of a koi fish_

The prince took a deep sigh before quietly muttering it under his breathe  
  


"Azulon"

 

Azulon looked at Deng through his mane. Looked at him with golden eyes. Eyes famously tied to the royal family. Eyes that seemed to bore into Deng. Eyes that didn't blink

 

_I'm not gonna forget that easily_.


	4. Thinking on and off feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game is...well not won, but over. 
> 
> Time to make bad life choices.

Deng walked beside the prince.

Who was still smiling. Albeit more sheepishly than he had been before. 

The people on the street kept eyeballing them, they'd wave to Deng, he'd wave back. _I don't remember any of your names_ , he guiltily mused. But people largely ignored the long-haired pillar that walked beside him. Azulon didn't seem to mind, he was just looking around, his head spinning in all directions. His eyes tracing over the green tiles of the roofs, the cracks in the white plaster walls, and smiling all the while.

The lamps were not lit by electric lights like in big cities, they still used oil lamps out here; they were made in factories, had a sleeker design, but they were still just oil lamps, and weren't exactly famous for providing great light. So Deng had to wonder, what exactly was so capt--

"Deng?"

"What?"

"You okay? You're kind of staring at me. Do I have something on my face?"

Azulon's face was covered by his hair again, _so technically he does, but do I...Oh right talking!_

"No, uh, just wondering what's so interesting?"

"Nothing" Azulon said, smiling in a way that let all his teeth, and his gums and basically everything but his eyes show. Deng had to wonder if the man had ever looked in a mirror, if the one's in the palace were just below his eye level. 

"welp, this is a very fun and such but I need to get back to the swamp"

Deng turned back and looked down, he'd forgotten that they'd brought the tubby swamp man along with them. He was about to wish him well when Azulon spoke up 

"Can I catch a ride with you?"

Both men took a hard look at the matted-haired prince.  He shrugged. 

"I've been wearing this hair shirt all day, had a nosebleed, and haven't eaten in hours; I think the spirits are ready to pipe up now"

"uh, wut?" the swamp man said, before his face fell "Oh, you one o them folks who think they can just run around the swamp and they's gon have a 'spiritual moment'"

"Well Avatar Aang did"

"He _wuz_ the Avatar tho"

"That's true, but I like my chances"

The swamp man took a step back, and carefully eyed the curtain of hair.

"You, sure you wanna?"

"Well, I spent the better part of an afternoon running through it--"

"The whole place?!"

"Well, just back and forth" Azulon admitted sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. The swamp man's eyes turned glassy, it was clear to Deng that he was thinking; whatever wheels that powered his swamp-soaked brain were turning very fast indeed. Suddenly his face stretched out into a big smile, a little too big if Deng was being honest. 

"You know, if y'all wanna haf one o them vishuns, theh's an eezy way" The swamp man crooned. 

Azulon's eyes sparked like flint "Great how's it done?!"

"Oh, now, now, it aint so simple as to juss tell y'all. Swamp secret, gots to keep it safe and " the swamp man leaned in close and whispered this last bit " _Quiet._ "

Deng, didn't like where this was going.

 "Now I could tell y'all, if you's was--"

Deng, _really_ didn't -- _don't think! Say something stop this!_

"Hey! Um you know what I just remembered!" Deng said. 

Azulon stared at him behind his black tangles, expectant, the swamp man stared as well, ready to contest.

_...I really should have thought of something before...uhhh_

"uh..."

"Deng?" Azulon asked "You remembered...what exactly?"

"uhhhhhhh....ng"

_well, that's a noise that instill confidence_ , 

The swamp man smiled that too-wide smile of his. 

"Come along now, he probly just hit his head in the fight--"

_The fight, The Fight!_

  
"The fight!" Deng shouted,

The swamp man smiled back and patted him on the shoulder, "yes, the fight, very good"  

Deng swatted his hand away 

"No, we won!"

Azulon looked at the ground "technically all we did was not lose--"

"Which is technically the definition of winning"

"I would argue there's a bit more nuance--"

"We didn't LOSE is my point. And in my house not losing warrants celebrating" Deng had him now.

"Well, celebrating would be nice" Azulon started "but I really do need to have that vision--" 

"Man has needs" the swamp person added. Deng shot him a glare that could break bones. Then turned his attention back to Azulon. 

"It's just a quick meal with my family--"

"Maybe y'all should keep that in the family" the swamp man muttered

_You'd know a lot about that ,wouldn't you, You little...Okay, crunch time, what's it gonna take?_

_I don't know we've known this guy for fifty minutes!_

_Focus! No time for dialogue!_

"um, well, uh, you see the team...uh"

_Oh come on!_

"it's...er...um"

Deng looked up and down Azulon's long figure, looked for some hint, like a kid scanning the classroom  hoping to find the answer to question 3 C written on the cinder blocks. And then it hit him. Tea.

_No wait that's stupid_.

Obscure quotes.

_Also stupid_.

Hair?

_Good word, I don't know much about this guy do I?_

"Um, Deng?" Azulon asked, tucking some of his twisted locks behind one ear, one amber eye looking right at him " _did_ you hit your head during the fight?"

_So. Easy._

_Now, how does one fake a concus--_

_Don't think about it! just FALL OVER!!!!_

And that's just what Deng did.

* * *

 

"Well, I'll give you this, you're certainly lighter than you look" Azulon said as he carried Deng up the street. 

"Well, no one's making you carry me" Deng said, trying not to blush.

"Oh, I'm not complaining" he said, smiling down at Deng,

_You never do, do ya?_

Deng couldn't help but wonder what kind of weird palatial education had created this smiling madman who apparently was sturdy enough to run through a swamp half-naked, hitch a ride with a stranger, get a nose bleed in a fight, find the strength to carry a grown man, and yet still couldn't tell there had been something fishy about the swamp person. _Well, at least --oh he's looking at us again._

"Uh, yeah?"

"Your house, what does it look like again?" Azulon asked as he adjusted Deng in his arms. Unlike the amateur fire bender Deng was not being carried over one shoulder, rather he was being cradled, which meant he had spent the last little while getting _very_ well acquainted with the thread count of Azulon's "hair shirt" and not looking at the street. Conveniently they were on the right one.

Not very hard to do in a town with only one road. 

"Um, hello? Oh No, is it gettign fuzzy, don't GO TOWARD--!!"

"No, it's okay, just spacing out. um, Big house, can't miss it" with that Azulon resumed his walk.

_I have got to stop doing that._

Walking with his face buried in a cheap, dirty shirt Deng suddenly realized, he hadn't though this whole, bringing Azulon home thing, all the way through. 

But before he could formulate a better plan they were standing outside the front gates of what was definitely the best house in town. Two floors above ground, fresh white plaster and shining green tiles, and a little perimeter fence that marked the property line, Deng however had to tug on Azulon's sleeve before he caught on. 

"This place?" Azulon asked

"You see any place bigger?"

" Actually I was trying not to mention this, but seeing isn't really easy in this town" 

"This is the place"

"Okay" Azulon approached the gate and though he was still smiling he didn't do anything. Just kind of stared at the gates.

"Um, Azulon?"

"Yeah"

"You gonna open those or...?"

"Oh" Azulon said, his eyebrows shooting up like fireworks "They aren't automatic?"

Deng gently shifted one arm out and over, and he nudged one of the great wood and metal doors open. 

"You can pretend it happened on it's own"

Azulon smirked at that "ha ha, you're very funny"

Once they got into the building, Deng was able to be set down. he directed Azulon to the library--

"Why?" he asked, his eyebrows creased with concern. 

"I can get medical help, plus uh..."

_plus what? Think of something, he'll get concerned if you take too--_

"my brother! My brother is in the library and he could use some company"

Azulon smirked down at him "how do you know he's in there?"

"He's always in there"

"Doesn't sound very sociable"

"All the more reason for someone to go visit him"

"That's a pretty poor reason for visiting someone"

"Well how would you like it if no one ever visited you, wouldn't you like a visitor?"

Azulon paused at this, he stopped smiling long enough to place a hand under his chin. He looked back at Deng "You sure you'll be okay?"

"Definitely" 

_I am faking this concussion after all._

Azulon smiled and said "How do I get there?"


	5. Journeys inward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azulon meets Deng's brother and it's time for...
> 
> MORE BAD DECISIONS!!!

Azulon strolled through the most aggressively green room he'd ever been in. He passed bookshelves of solid green stone, filled with books bound in green leather, and all on top of a green carpet that covered a green tiled floor. The room, being made of solid rock, was also very cold. _Too cold_ , Azulon thought

 _You've been colder_ , said a voice in his head. 

Azulon stopped walking and looked around, the room was surprisingly well lit, despite having no visible signs of lighting or fire, the whole place was also all one color so a human-colored person would stand out. He looked between every bookshelf, across all the tables and still couldn't find him. 

Not that he knew what he looked like. _Well, the guy is Deng's brother_ , Azulon thought, _stands to reason he'll look something like him. So just be on the lookout for stocky, muscular men with black hair and crew cuts_. Azulon smiled a little, well a little more than usual, at the image of either a mini version of Deng or a slightly enlarged copy of him. He was still smiling at the little joke when he bumped into something.

Now this something was not as sturdy or tough as a bookshelf, nor was it as green, it appeared to have hair and made a loud complaint about having lost it's place; from these things Azulon deduced that he had in fact, bumped into a person. A pot-bellied person. A pale, pale, _Pale_ pot-bellied person. Who somehow, despite the aforementioned pot-belly  managed to have skinny arms. His hair, Azulon was assuming the person was a _he_ based off the low voice, was black like Deng's but it was...different, Azulon didn't know the right word for it, it looked shiny but not in a clean way... _actually come to think how does my hair look?_ he thought as he looked around for any sort of reflective surface.

"um...can i help you?" said a voice that was definitely not Azulon's. He turned then to face the pot-bellied...yup, that's a man, Azulon thought as he looked up and away from the man as he hastily re-tied a bathrobe he'd been wearing and got up. He didn't even reach Azulon's shoulder, but then again he also appeared to be slouching. 

"I...hope so" Azulon said, his own back straight, he always believed that you could improve the posture and attitude of others by demonstrating how it ought to be done "I'm down here looking for Deng's brother" The man raised his head about to speak when Azulon finished with "Do you know where he is?" the man dropped his head a little at this, he weakly pointed at himself.

"Hi, I'm Sheng"

It took...longer than it should have for Azulon to fully process and comprehend the situation. To illustrate this, let us examine Sheng, aside from his, uh distinctive appearance he also has a fondness for tea, preferably hot, preferably jasmine, he had one such cup in  the library with him ,he'd just come back from the kitchen with it, as Azulon prowled his halls. He had set it down on a table so as to grab the library's copy of _More than Hot leaf Juice_ by Interim Firelord Iroh, so it was still hot when he'd been hit by Iroh's relative. It was still warm when he explained, in a roundabout way who he was. But it was stone cold by the time Iroh's descendant put three and seven together.

When he put three and seven together his immediate reaction was to smile at maximum capacity which he noticed had a tendency to put people at ease. Which was how he interpreted their long pregnant pauses. 

Sheng took an unconscious step back. 

"Your brother informed me that you were in need of company"

Sheng took in the tall man whose hair stretched to the floor like the tentacles of a dead octopus, and decided that politely asking why his brother couldn't make it, might not get him the desired result. Something about those over-wide, excited eyes sat ill with Sheng. 

"And he sent you? Um, not to be rude that is"

" Yes. And I fail to see how asking a question is rude"

"Um, Okay, uh did, he say why?"

"Well, I brought him back after the fight--"

"You were in the fight?But I thought he was using that fire bender kid from--"

"How did you know I was a fire bender?" Azulon asked, suddenly, genuinely interested in the reply, which was:

"Well...don't take this the wrong way, but...You're not subtle"

"Really? How--"

At this Sheng picked up his book and pressed it's green leather spine into Azulon's hands. He read the title over a few time before smirking. Again, his great ancestor provided an easy connection to this rather strange patchwork family. But he was curious...

"How does my great-great uncle's book--?"

"No one person in the earth nations have ever dressed like that" he said pointing to Azulon's black pants, before dropping his hand and fidgeting with it.

"That's it, my pants betrayed me?" Azulon asked, genuine confusion and sorrow in his voice, Sheng raised an eyebrow at this. 

"Nevermind how I know, you were in the fight right?"

"Oh yes" Azulon said, smiling wide again, Sheng wasn't sure if he preferred the man happy. 

"so, how did it go?"

"Well...we didn't lose, but your brother may have hit his head"

 _So?_ thought Sheng, before Azulon continued with...

"I was just about to learn that 'secret method' from the swamp person about how to have visions on my time..."

 _ah, now I get it_ Sheng thought as he looked up and down Azulon, from his shining greasy scalp to the tips of his unkempt tangles. _An easy mark._ With a sigh Sheng took the book back from Azulon. 

"you hungry?"

"I've been fasting"

"I figured but didn't want to assume" Sheng said, looking at the exceedingly loose shirt Azulon wore, _Well it'll keep him busy_ , he thought "How committed are you to this whole fasting thing?"

"I am--"

"Well,  I'm going to eat...Y-you can come along if you want" Sheng said as he slouched his way out of the library. 

Azulon, for the first time in a while, consciously stopped smiling, he furrowed his brows and looked around, his eyes sweeping the room. 

He was all alone. In a stranger's house. He was miles away from his destination. And at every attempt to get back he was presented with an obstacle. 

He considered. He was alone. He had no company. In a cold _Cold_ room.

_Not the first time that's happened._

Sheng was still slowly lurching out the door when Azulon closed the gap between them and followed him to the kitchen.

* * *

 Deng sat across from his father, silently eating a protein bar.

His father was trying not to look at him.

Which was fine by Deng's standards, looking usually lead to talking and...well, Deng never could keep up. 

He silently munched away at the flavorless block trying not to look at his father, who was busy reading a book from the library. 

Deng bit into the paper wrapper and decided to throw it out in the kitchen. Which was conveniently adjacent to everything else in the house. He gave a quick nod to his father. Who turned the page of his book.

_Great conversation Dad,_

_Just glad you're OK son,_

_Well, --wait what?!_

Deng walked into his kitchen and nearly screamed, inside sat his brother sipping tea, not that unusual, beside him was Azulon who was staring down at a plate of noodles...not smiling,

_That's odd. Why Isn't--Wait, no focus!_

Deng promptly walked up to his brother who put down his own book and looked over at Azulon, who stared down into the noodles as if they might attack him. 

"Is...Is he alright?" asked Sheng. The genuine look of concern was a common look for Sheng, ever since they had been--

_NO, Focus!_

_Right_

"Right!" Deng said, prompting a questioning gaze from Azulon, but Sheng merely went back to his tea, while Deng tried to remember what he'd been asked. Azulon meanwhile abandoned his small plate of noodles to go up to Deng and tilt his head by the chin, squinting all the while. His amber eyes were scanning back and forth across Deng's face as he turned it, Deng, Deng didn't know what was happening so he didn't try to respond. Actually no, he tried to respond but Azulon covered up his mouth and went back to examining his face.

Sheng meanwhile, held his tea in one hand while watching the strange spectacle. He didn't want to intervene, but this...this was weird.

Eventually Azulon stopped his twisting and prodding only to cryptically say

"No bruise"

Deng shuddered, _if only--_

"Why would he have a bruise?" Sheng asked

_Okay, I need to stop having these--_

"He got hit in the head during the fight, he's uh..." Azulon leaned in and whispered this last bit to Sheng "Not quite up to speed yet"

_Oh no, what--_

_Don't think, ACT!!!_

Deng shot his brother a look, eyes darting between Azulon and the adjacent sitting room where their father was presently reading.

Sheng looked between that room and and then over at Azulon who was still examining Deng for a bruise, in the process he lifted his hair exposing his long pale face. Sheng's eyes blew wide. He then  calmly placed his book on the kitchen counter, stood up and looked Deng in the eye.

" _I'll_  go warm dad up to...company. _You_  will deal with..." at this Sheng looked over at a very distracted Azulon, still busy inspecting Deng for some mark of injury. Sheng picked  his book back up and walked into the sitting room. 

Deng looked at Azulon, half of his long black hair tucked up behind one ear, and thought, _Great, how, uh, how do I "deal" with this?_

Azulon, thankfully provided the answer to that 

"Are you sure that rock hit you in the head?"

"You know? I um, I never actually said that it did"

"But you fainted--"

"passed out."

"semantics--"

"No. no, I just passed out, did not faint"

Azulon leveled his gaze at Deng. 

The sudden eruption of laughter from the other room prevented Azulon from whatever he'd been about to say. He cocked an eyebrow at the sound. And shifted his gaze back to Deng.

"Okay, so, assuming that you didn't hit your head--"

"Which I never said I did" Deng replied as Azulon took his hand away from Deng's face.

"Then why did you fai...why did you fall over?"

_Oh no._

"Well?" Azulon asked, golden eyes wide and innocent. _Oh man, why do I have to lie to this guy?_

_No one said you had to._

"Okay" Deng said placing his hands on Azulon's shoulders "You, um, you might be a bit mad about this, but...you remember that swamp guy?"

 

In the sitting room Sheng and his father were having a genuinely riveting conversation. As Sheng was accustomed to. They were discussing the implications of the life of the last Earth Queen on the current economic market, and how that in turn led the prices of the next village over to be making more money selling the same sort of cabbage. 

Truly Sheng was having one of the most stimulating conversations he could ask for. He'd almost forgotten why he'd come in to the sitting room, why he'd buttered his father up with a discussion that he knew the man would enjoy. And then the thing he'd forgotten about made a loud explosion in the kitchen. 

In any other kitchen an explosion would be a bad thing certainly,but Sheng's father had built this house in such a way that fire and explosion were impossible; light was provided for by luminescent rock sheets, things were heated by rocks that generated some sort of wavelength that was controlled, contained, and not cancerous by means of  metal bending, and if one was cold they just threw on more clothing. In short, an explosion could only come from one place. 

And if it had just been an explosion that might not have been so bad, an explosion Sheng could explain with a simple Deng brought the fire bender from the village in to treat some injuries, but when Deng went flying through the kitchen door, lightning, and multicolored flames trailing from his body. Well, it would take Sheng a bit more work to excuse that. 

His father, always a big man, stood to his full height, he didn't go over to Deng who was presently bending a wall back after he'd pushed it out of the way mid-flight, but to the kitchen. 

Sheng shrank behind the little table in the sitting room, hoping the fight would be over quickly and that the fire bender wouldn't be too hard to look at. 

And then their father went flying as well. 

No sooner had Deng repaired the wall did his father come crashing into it and twist it around his momentum. He then got up and stared down his son, who jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen door. Sheng followed their gaze, a pale blue glow overpowered the usual light green of the house, it came from the small stirring  fire that churned in the stranger's clenched fists. He raised a hand and screeched at the top of his lungs

"I'm gonna Bring the spirits your FRICKIN' HEAD IN A BOX!!!"

 _Well, it appears negotiations broke down_ , thought Sheng as his father squared up against the formidable shadow that now stood in their kitchen

"I don't know who you are" his father said " but whatever your problem is--"

"MY problem? You wanna know about my PROBLEM?!"

"Oh no..." Deng said trying to get ahead of his father "Azulon, that really isn't--"

"Azulon?" their father said, his eyes now darting back and forth between the man, _Azulon, apparently_ , Sheng thought, _wait isn't that the name...oh no_ , 

Their father then turned to Deng "You brought. A member. Of the _Firelord's_ family. Into our _house_."

Although Sheng couldn't see it from behind his table, he could tell his father was fuming, he only spoke in that clipped tone when he wanted words to hurt. Azulon, despite his tendency to question the loyalty of his clothing, lowered his hand and calmed his flames till they were orange. 

 _Does he know what's going on?_ Sheng wondered. 

"Have I caused some offence?" Azulon asked. To which Sheng's father replied by beaning him in the face with a rock. Azulon reeled back and when his head snapped forward fire erupted form his mouth in a great orange plume that was only blocked by Deng bending a wall between his father and the long-haired assailant. 

Sheng hid further under the table, while his brother and father did battle with the socially inept dragon that had slithered into their home. 

 _I feel like I should do something_ , Sheng thought as several loud booms and thuds erupted overhead, A new wall emerged from the floor and slammed up into the ceiling and he thought, _Cowering, that's what I should do, I'm very good at that._

There was another roar from the dragon and Sheng felt heat in the house for the first time, he cowered further, his only protection a bathrobe and a table, while his brother and father bent the house out of shape trying to defeat this man. Sheng wanted to scream. Wanted to fight. wanted to do _Something_.

But he couldn't. He was under the table for a reason.

He spent all his time in the library for a reason. 

He wore a robe around the house for a reason.

He couldn't do anything.

But they were fighting.

And they might not live.

And he might not live. 

_And could they all just--_

**"STOP! ~~~~"**

 

In the Air sanctuary at the Air temple in Republic City Jinora stared up at the faces of all the Avatars that had come and gone and thought to herself for perhaps the hundredth time _how am I still alive?_ She often came here, the little stone was quite covered in rocks by now, the courtyard was an unsightly mess. This was, at the very least, a much better looking reminder of the crushing failure to find the Avatar. She looked up at the face of Avatar Kyoshi, then over to Avatar Roku, then to the big one. Her grandfather, whom she'd never met, who's stories she'd read to...were his eyes supposed to do that? 

 

On top of a small building in the Northern water tribe a pillar sat, it was watched by someone who was about to feel very gratified. Because for the first time in eighteen years he had something to report.

 

In the depths of the swamp the greatest tree in the whole place rang out the news.

 

And in the fire nation, the fire sages beheld something that they had worried not to see again.

 

Sheng was floating in a swirling ball of air. His eyes glowed white. And everything was still before him. 

Deng looked shocked. 

His father was opening and closing his mouth.

Azulon had resumed smiling. Wider this time.

And for a brief moment everyone had stopped fighting.

 


	6. Journeys outward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the shocking revelation of last episode, some things are discussed, some things are decided and...well, you'll see.

Sheng squirmed on a lacquered stool at a greasy counter in his favorite bar. Or rather his father's favorite bar that he also happened to like. He was squirming because he didn't often leave the house, didn't often see other people, and didn't often wear pants, as such being out in public, around strangers, in clothes that did not flatter the lump he was beginning to suspect wasn't just baby fat, all made him a touch uncomfortable. He looked over at his father, usually they'd be talking up a storm, conversation flying from the local news to far off building projects in Republic City, but now he  was silent. Now, for the first time in his entire life, neither of them had anything to say. 

And Sheng didn't even know why, all he remembered was yelling stop, blacking out...at least that was what he was calling it, that weird sliding feeling he'd gotten before he woke up on the floor, everyone huddled over him.

He looked over at his father, his father didn't look back. He didn't want to talk, neither did Sheng. Both of them were awkwardly pretending to read the menu even though they already knew what they were going to order. 

Sheng's father was the first to speak, or rather to sigh, then to speak, he started off with Sheng's least favorite words to hear "When you were born and we tried to teach you to bend..." Normally Sheng would have stopped his father, and his father would have been grateful to not discuss what was for them, a deeply unpleasant series of memories that rather dampened the mood of some otherwise delightful conversations, but this time his father put up a hand and continued, they were going to have to talk about this. 

"...we tried to get the rocks to move, we tried to move them for you to give you encouragement, we tried leaving you outside, leaving you inside, introducing you to the badgermoles, throwing rocks..." Sheng's father paused at this, and Sheng put one hand to his face, still remembering how loudly he'd cried after they'd chucked a stone at him the first time, how he only got quieter and how the stones never got softer, and how they never moved unless someone was chucking them. He remembered that well, he also remembered his father deciding to try a new method of encouragement; stories. Tales of  Kyoshi, Toph, and King Bumi, all of earth bending's greatest hits, and how quickly Sheng had read through those books, how often he re-read them, Sheng remembered the stones, but he also remembered the day his father began tossing books to him, to, not at, he remembered spending less and less time outside training and more time reading, he remembered the library going from a few hundred books to a few thousand, he remembered talking with his father, really talking, learning to like the man that raised him. But his father wasn't going to mention any of that now, and Sheng knew it.

"If we'd known then...that you were...who you are" 

A term Sheng still didn't understand and that no one seemed willing to elaborate on. 

"I honestly don't know what we would have done" his father collapsed on the counter at this, Sheng put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him in the inept way common to their family. His father eventually got back up, he looked over at Sheng, his eyes red-rimmed, he looked older, older than he ever had, his short black hair wasn't any grayer, his face no more lined, but he looked a thousand. Sheng wanted to give him money, or food or comfort, something. It hurt looking at him like this. And Sheng had no idea why, his father had mentioned a condition, something had been revealed, he didn't know how to deal with it, but Sheng still hadn't the foggiest idea what this condition was. And no one was talking. 

So there they sat, a father and son who shared everything, who couldn't voice a problem and didn't know they had a problem.

* * *

 

Back at the house, Azulon was meditating, his legs clasped in a lotus position, eyes closed, a smile on his face...in the middle of the charred wreck that once was Deng's dining room. _At least somebody's happy_ , thought Deng, as he gently tried to re-set the wall. 

_well, we don't know that he's happy--_

_He's definitely at peace isn't he?_

_Well, he looks peaceful, I don't know if he is at--_

"Um, excuse me?"

Deng snapped out of his reverie and turned to face the mop of black locks obscuring Azulon's face, even though he could see the man behind the rat's nest he couldn't quite get a feel for his emotions just yet... _Oh right he asked something._

_Why are we helping him?_

_Well, we're not helping, we're just being poli--_

_Oh like he was so polite in burning down our house?!_

"Um, Excuse me" Azulon repeated, his eyes narrowing "I'd like to ask something"

_Oh so he--_

"Do you need any help fixing this...dining room?" 

Deng replied by straightening out the wall, Azulon kept smiling, but there was something softer about his smile, it seemed less...manic. 

"I'm willing to pay for any personal belongings I might have damaged"

"That won't be necessary"

"Why not?"

Thankfully Deng's father and Sheng returned at that moment, so he didn't have to tell Azulon that the whole house was technically a personal belonging and.. _Okay, you don't need to have that rant out loud, don't have it in your head._

They had left so Sheng could be...delicately informed about what had transpired, and what had to happen, something Deng wasn't quite clear about, and based on their faces... _Oh no_.

"You didn't tell him?" Deng's father shot him a sharp look before it became fearful, before he looked over at Azulon who was presently walking towards him and his son, before he stopped, mid-step, face still smiling but painted with confusion "you didn't tell him, why not?"

Deng's father cleared his throat and replied in a tone that could halt an avalanche "It's my family, not yours"

avalanches have nothing on Azulon, because a Deng's father was about to walk away with Sheng in tow Azulon's arm jutted out and stopped him. Azulon was thin, and looked frail within the heavy black folds of his clothes but Deng's father seemed unable to move. Azulon was still smiling but it was a smile like someone had cut the shape into a piece of meat, Deng had sudden flashbacks to the five seconds before their living room had become a war zone.

"The world is his family"

"I don't want to talk about this with you" his fatehr said, an arm shooing away Azulon's hand as he went with his son down into the library. Azulon stopped smiling, he put his hand on his chin in a very familiar gesture that let Deng know he was planning something. The man's amber eyes traced the patterns on the walls, followed the cracks he'd made in them and came to rest of Deng. Then the smile came back. And the manic look. And Deng's palms got sweaty as Azulon cheerfully marched over, his black hair flapping in the wind he generated for himself. Deng was about to put up a wall when he remembered just how much structural change had happened in the last few hours and thought better--

"Deng?"

_Gotta Stop doing that--_

"Deng? Did...did I hit you in the head again?"

"Probably" _Good! Keep them snappy. Don't let em get an inch!_

"Okay...um, listen I don't know how things work around here"

"Clearly" _Nice._

"But, you have to know who your brother is, what he is destined to do"

"Do I have to?" _Okay that was, that was a little weak._

"Yes, you really do! For Crying out loud the balance of the universe--

"Is doing just fine--"

"And how long can that last?"

 _Why should we care? No wait say it!_ "Why should you care?" _almost._

"Because I've spent the better part of my life looking for the Avatar only to find he's been sitting on his own potential under a mountain of books! Do you really want that to be his life? Do you want him to waste his potential?"

Deng thought-- _no don't think! Get Him Out!_

"I think you need to l--"

" _I think_ you need to realize that he can bend elements, all four of them in fact!" Azulon had stopped smiling, he was now.. _.were his eyes always that watery? No idea, Get Him Out!_

"You should g--"

"I'm not going unless he comes with me"

"You think--"

"I can burn this house to the ground with you and your father ** _inside of it_**!!!" Azulon said, tears now running down his face, his bangs unevenly divided " _Or_ you can help your brother to find his purpose. Which based off of the _kettle drum_ I saw on his stomach is something he could use"

Deng didn't know what he did or said, but suddenly Azulon's face changed, softened, got sad, not crying, just sad, his head lowered, his hair covered him, and in a voice like a baby mouse he quietly asked "please, can you help me?"

* * *

 The first thing Sheng noticed was that he not in his bed. The second thing was that he appeared to be on some sort of metal grate, the third thing was the roar of the engine. 

He opened his eyes, gently, so as not to go into shock from what he expected to see; he was tied up, in his blankets, on what appeared to be an airship,at least it looked like the designs for airships that Sheng had seen before, bald-headed tattooed strangers shouted things to each other, moving supplies and navigation equipment, Sheng would have been excited and soaking it all in, finally seeing air nomads, hearing them talk, witnessing all the things he'd read about put into action if it weren't for the whole, you know being tied up and on a metal grate. He looked at the knots, they seemed labyrinthine and fused but maybe if he could free his hands...which were behind his back, under the sheets...okay plan B. 

He was about to ask for help when his muffled voice, aching jaw and the taste of fabric let him know that he had been gagged as well.

"You're sure it's him?" said a stranger overhead

"Of course!" replied a cheerful voice that Sheng had learned to fear, 

"Well, forgive me for doubting your abilities oh prince--"

"Azulon is fine"

"...yeah, I'm not going to say that name"

"eh, fair"

"As I was saying, forgive me, but he doesn't look--"

"Like much? No, but that's what we're here for"

"I suppose so, you said he had a father how did he--"

"Well I told his brother to write a note...I think he's awake"

Sheng suddenly had the very keen sensation that he was being talked about, the sound of soft slippered feet on metal told him that he was about to have company, suddenly yanked to his feet he was confronted not by the prince with seaweed hair, nor by a tattooed man of peace but by a more familiar face, the broad, bulky face of his brother. Never in his life had Sheng so wanted to punch him.

 


	7. Over the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheng, Deng, and Azulon make their way to destiny and further hijinks

Azulon had always liked airships. He enjoyed strolling through them, across the metal grid that made up the platforms, his long black hair trailing behind him in the dim reddish light that came from all the consoles and switchboards, he loved the creak and groan of the engine starting up, running, and grinding to a halt, the sharp smell of oil on metal, the air always just a little warmer than it needed to be, but most of all he loved the people. Most airships were piloted by air nomads, for a variety of complicated and unpleasant reasons the fire nation was no longer allowed an air-based attack force; and air nomads were, among other things, very chill, perhaps it was that perfect monk life style working for them, but they all just exuded a calming aura, and it was hard for it not to catch on.

Unless you were Sheng and apparently, three hours into the trip and he was still thrashing on the metal deck despite the monks best efforts to calm him, Azulon looked down at the pot-bellied boy he'd kidnapped in a rice flour sack half an hour ago and  debated whether or not they should have just kept him sedated till they got to Republic City, on the one hand he would have been quieter, on the other hand the untrained Avatar wasn't really a threat, having all his limbs tied up tended to limit one's ability to escape. That didn't stop the captive from trying though, and in increasingly inventive ways, jumping up, not getting far,  realizing that the platform tilts a little after the jump, realizing it only tilts so far after testing it, and on and on. Azulon couldn't help but watch, and that was all he'd done since Sheng woke up, because it was alarmingly like watching a mouse trying to get out of a maze. 

Deng, meanwhile had chosen to stand at a nearby window following a five second interaction when his brother woke up. Azulon wanted to go over to the window...but Sheng was doing something with his feet and a loose piece of metal and Azulon had some theories that he hoped were right about just what was going to happen.

* * *

 

Deng watched the world roll away under the giant metal ball he now found himself in, vaguely aware of the smell of oil, the heat of a running engine, and the sound of his brother attempting to escape. He knew Azulon was standing behind him, doing the job he should have been doing; watching his brother.  He Stood there as the fluffy balls of water vapor swallowed the view and then let it back out again, he knew Sheng would probably be ecstatic to see this stuff, _or at least he would be in theory_ , he thought

_I yeah, I'm sure hed love to see the pretty clouds, really put a positive spin on his kidnapping_

_It's not kidnapping..._

_It isn't?_

_Okay maybe a little, but come on..._

_you can't even make up an excuse for why you did this can you?_

_He NEEDED to get out!_

_No. He needed to eat. Sleep. Make bowel movements and maybe take a shower. I seriously doubt that he needed to go on a whirlwind--_

"Uh, Deng is it?"

Deng nearly jumped out of his skin as he came face to...well top of head, with a rather short monk who politely gestured to the window with a tattooed hand, Deng quietly moved out of his way and tried not to shudder too visibly, he had to admit as bad as it was all these  little men in their strange clothes running around all quiet just straight up scared him, he remembered Sheng telling him in the old days they used to give tattoos as a punishment to criminals and even then it was little ones to mark them, why someone would willing get giant bands of blue and arrows all over their bodies, Deng would never understand. The toher thign was some of these men had odd faces, and voices, like women, but no woman would do that to herself _right?_

_Hey don't ask me._

_Maybe bringing him out here was a mistake._

_I didn't say anything._

_You've done nothing but...okay, let's say this is a mistake and he ends up as one of these gender less, hairless, oddly dressed...things floating around silently, Is that really going to be so bad?_

"Deng" Azulon said, allowing Deng to snap out of his deep and involved conversation...with himself, _caught in the act yet--_

"Is this a bad time?" Azulon asked peered out the window inquisitively as some loud clanking and shifting occurred behind him. _Answer!_

"Answer!" Deng shouted, before following it up a minute later with "my question, that I am now about to ask which is, what's up?"

"At the moment your brother" Azulon said as one of those strange robed things fell to the metal grating below before bouncing back up on a bubble of swirling fumes, Azulon paid little mind to this, his amber eyes trained on Deng's "Mind helping me catch him before he jumps?"

* * *

 

Sheng was flying, or at least he was trying to, for some reason he could only jump a very far distance despite being boosted by a personal gust of wind. He had read some things about air benders, about their techniques and movements but those had all been written by casual observers, even the autobiographies of previous Avatars had proved unhelpful as they merely waxed poetic about how their various actions in situations had been justified for the preservation of harmony.  None of them had been very forthcoming about techniques or training, as a result Sheng was in a lot of pain, he was gesturing, pointing, stretching his body in ways it was not accustomed to, ways he suspected the nomads would never stretch. 

As he blew past another huddled group of bald men and women he couldn't help but think that , despite the fact that he was in pain, kidnapped and going who knows where, this was kind of awesome, it was like watching a painting coming to life in front of him, these were the people he'd spent the better part of decade reading about, pouring over ancient volumes written by men, largely by men until the invention of the Satomobile, of the earth Kingdom who'd only had a passing glance of the floating world of the nomads. Cracking open that first book and practically hearing the sounds of their singing bowls, the smell of their incense, the taste of their famed pastries. He'd been enchanted.

And now he couldn't appreciate it because he was too busy trying to figure out where they kept those stupid gliders so he could get on one, and fly back home, this time with an escape route so they might not catch him as easily. This time with his father on guard. This time without a brother to betray him.

 _Speaking of whom_ , he thought as he rounded the corner to face down his stocky, sturdy, crew cut having brother, already in fighting stance

"Really?" he shouted, arms spread, tones clipped, and syllables at the ready "Am I five again?" he saw his brother's arms go slack, only lightly, but still the tension decreased "Are you going to pelt stones at me? Will you get angry if I don't bend them back?"

"...s nothing like that..."

"How so? You're making me do something I don't want to do. I'm in a lot of pain--"

"How? Those tattooed weirdos said they tied you up erg...erg...uh"

"Ergonomically?"

"Yes! That!"

"Well in trying to escape from my BROTHER who KIDNAPPED me, and the LOON who burnt down our house I might have been driven to some things"

"Really?" Deng said, his eyes now trailed up and down "And uh, tell me, what was your plan? Jump? Hope the ground was soft?"

"I was going to fly--"

"With what?" rolled an unsettling voice, Sheng turned around to see the prince lit from behind by the ominous red light of the engineer's room; he knew it was him, not because he could see the man's face, but because no one other than the three of them had hair and the dead giant squid he had on top of his head was hard to mistake for anything else.

 "If you were thinking about the gliders, Avatar Korra was the last person to use one, most of them stick to those jumpsuits they have on under their robes"

_How did I not--_

"Airbenders guard their secrets well, that's why they like the monasteries so much" Azulon continued "Lots of secrets, books for miles, books that never leave those halls, books--"

"You're making it sound like Wan Shi Tong's library" Sheng snapped, cutting off the young prince "And I'm not Deng, I don't fall for bait"

"True, but, uh hear me out--"

"Azulon, stop" Deng said "Sheng"

"Deng"

"You really wanna make this so difficult?"

"Make my trafficking difficult? Hm let me think--"

"Okay they're monks or something!"

"They can have kids!"

"They can? wait _They_ can?"

"...yes Deng, the tattoo bald people can f--"

"Okay! OKAY! Don't, just please..."

"Well, this has been fun--"

"Sheng listen to me"

"Only you listen to the graphic description of two bald tattooed monks 'rebuilding the air nation'"

"YOU CANNOT ESCAPE!" Deng shouted at a volume that made Sheng take an instinctive step back "You! Are! The Avatar! You have a duty to the world--"

"And--"

"Don't. Okay, listen, there is no way off of this ship that doesn't involve the Avatar cycle starting again. This is _not_ like when we were kids! I am not seven! You are not five! Dad is not standing over my shoulder with _a reed in hand_! You are not talent less. You can bend. This is not us forcing you to do something you can't. This is you deliberately choosing to be a little snot! And pass up an opportunity so you can stew in a broth of sweat and paper!" 

* * *

Deng's voice still vibrated in the steel as Azulon walked past the Avatar to get a good look at the man, his broad smooth face was stretched and red, his eyes were bloodshot, whether that was from the fumes or the shouting couldn't be determined. Azulon turned to look at the Avatar, he took a deep sigh and said "take my room, you'll find it at the end of the hallway"

"I never--"

"Just go"

Sheng left, rubbing an arm, even at a distance Azulon could tell that the new bringer of peace and harmony had twisted several of his muscles out of place, he gave Deng a once over before grabbing him by the shoulders and steering him towards the windows on the main deck, as he guided the gentle curves of the mans biceps towards that deck he heard Deng muttering under his breathe, almost indiscernible, but he could still make out a few words "shouldn't have....why...brother..."

 


End file.
